


Duplicitous Masks

by The_Disaster_Tiefling



Series: Crinktober [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Promises, Trust, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 14:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16198967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Disaster_Tiefling/pseuds/The_Disaster_Tiefling
Summary: Gilmore tries to piece together the puzzle that is Vax's reactions in the wake of the Rakshasa's betrayal, while Vax searches for a reminder that it wasn't him.





	Duplicitous Masks

    Fear wasn’t an uncommon emotion these days in Tal’Dorei, and Gilmore had felt more than his fair share – not least a few minutes ago as he’d fought for his life against the assassin that had made it inside his home. However, that had been nothing compared to the terror that had engulfed him when Keyleth had found told him that Vax was in danger – again, that in itself was nothing new, as Vox Machina seemed to stumble from danger to danger, and the Rogue was usually in the midst of it all.

However, this was different.

    This was an attack in their own home, on one of the few places that he knew that Vax had allowed himself to feel safe, to let down some of the many barriers he kept around himself. And for once, Gilmore was close enough to do something – and he hadn’t hesitated, magic swelling and swirling around them as he bore them away, his power taking him straight to the one he was starting to realise meant more than he could put into words.

_Vax…_

    It was disorientating arriving at the Keep to find Vax injured, but very much alive and for a moment Gilmore had faltered, struggling to reconcile his panicked imaginings with the reality that greeted him. The last, awkward conversation they’d had also reared its head when Vax had looked at him – but it was the hesitation, the new wariness as dark eyes studied him, that shook him out of his shock because the other man had never been cautious around him.

    He didn’t know what had happened, sharp eyes briefly roving over the other members of Vox Machina, noting that they all looked like they had endured a scuffle before his attention was drawn briefly to the elegant, silk robe that had been dropped on the floor in the middle of them. That piqued his interest, but then his focus returned to Vax, and he took a slow step forward, taking care to let the half-elf see his every movement, and quashing the flicker of hurt as he realised that Vax had tensed and was watching him as though he was a threat. However, Vax didn’t stop his approach, and when he was close enough to reach out, he found Vax reaching back, although he didn’t miss the flinch that ran through the Rogue as his fingers brushed Vax’s arms.

“You’re injured,” he murmured because right now it felt safer to focus on that, than the wariness that wasn’t fading and the fear that still lingered beneath his skin. And it wasn’t a lie, because while it was clear that Vax had been healed somewhat, he was still bloodied and battered, a semi-healed gash marring a pale cheek, and this was what Gilmore reached for, tracing it with gentle fingers. Vax flinched again, this time pulling back slightly, even as he tried to mask it with a chuckle.

“I’ve been worse.” The confidence he was aiming for fell flat, and Gilmore felt more than he saw the rest of Vox Machina shifting uneasily, and he knew that he was missing some critical piece of information – something that no one, Vax included, seemed ready to share and he frowned. He didn’t like secrets, especially when Vax had always been relatively open with him, but Gilmore had spent years cultivating the art of studying people – it was the best way to do business after all, and he could tell that pushing now was only going to chase the half-elf away. And so he forced a smile and a chuckle.

“I am aware, although I can’t say that is very comforting.” In fact, he was sure that each tale of what Vox Machina had endured added a grey hair to his mass of dark hair, and it didn’t ease the fear or the worry he was feeling now. “It seems we’ve all had visitors tonight.” He offered instead, noting that Vax tensed and paled, looking away and filing the reaction away.

“Yes, and some of them brought gifts,” Percy, bless his soul, seemed to have picked up on the need to change the topic as he stepped forward and gestured at the robe.

“Gifts?” Gilmore echoed, taking the hint and stepping forward, trying not to react as Vax drew back out of his path.

   It was difficult, but he forced himself to adopt a business-like mask as he stepped past the half-elf, feeling the weight of wary eyes on his back as he moved across to the robe, ignoring the murmured warnings as he bent and scooped it up. The material was as fine as anything he’d felt before, and he rolled it between his fingers, absently thinking that the colour would look good on Vax even as he reached out with his magic. It was like tracing an elusive song, as he reached for the enchantment that he could feel layered into the material, eyes narrowing as he found a jarring note and then another, his eyebrows rising as he realised why Percy had spat out the word ‘gifts’.

    It took him another moment to determine the nature of the spell, and he immediately wished that he hadn’t, the magic leaving a foul taste on his tongue as he reported his findings aloud.

“It’s a robe of flaying, harmless as long as you wear it. However, if you try to remove it…”

    He’d heard of such things of course, although he’d never contemplated encountering or creating one and he looked down at it with distaste, regretting his thought that this would have looked good on Vax before a horrifying thought occurred to him.

“You wore this didn’t you…” It wasn’t really a question, because he had caught the soft intake of breath that had greeted his words and when he looked up, it was to find that Vax had backed up, arms wrapped defensively around him. And now that Gilmore was looking, he realised that beneath the blood left from whatever attack Vax had withstood, there were patches of blotchy red, as though his skin… “Vax…?” Why? Why would he have even put this robe on, it wasn’t something he would typically wear, unless…

_Gifts._

   He wasn’t aware of stepping forward, the robe half-forgotten in his arms, overcome with a need to check that Vax was truly unharmed and it took him a moment to realise that Vax was shrinking away from him and that Percy had stepped between them.

“Gilmore, this robe isn’t a danger unless it’s worn?” The gunslinger asked as he reached cautiously for the robe, and it took Gilmore a second to process the question, nodding as he willingly handed the material over. _He wore a robe of flaying…_ His mind was racing, knowing that he was still missing several key facts and it took him another moment to realise that the others were slipping away, as his attention had returned to Vax who was making no effort to follow them but was still holding himself apart, curled in on himself.

“I think the two of you need to have a conversation,” Percy murmured, folding the robe over his arm and offering Gilmore a sympathetic look, before glancing across at Vax. “Don’t let him push you away,” the words were little more than a whisper that was meant for his ears alone, a warning and a plea wrapped up in one. Gilmore nodded, heart, twisting at the thought that Vax might try, even after that last conversation about their relationship and Percy gave a nod, before following the others out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving them alone.

     Silence followed. Gilmore trying to piece together the pieces of information that he had, while studying Vax who seemed to be looking anywhere but at him, hands moving up and down his arms as though he was trying to soothe himself. He feels as though the answer is just dancing out of reach, but he can’t bear to watch Vax any longer and pushing away his thoughts, for now, he moved forward, slower and more deliberate than before.

“Come on Dearheart.” Perhaps they’re not in a place where he should be using such endearments, but it slips out as he’s still riding on the waves of his earlier fear. Vax blinks, and Gilmore takes it as a positive that he doesn’t flinch away this time, although the wariness is still there. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” They’ll both feel better once the evidence of the attack is washed away, and Gilmore wants, needs to see the extent of the damage.

“I…” Vax visibly hesitates, no longer even trying to maintain a confident mask as he glances down at himself, shivering as he takes in the state he’s in. “That would be nice.” Gilmore nods, closing the gap between them and gently looping an arm around Vax’s shoulder, holding his breath as he waits to see how Vax will react. The Rogue stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away – but it’s a small victory, as he remains tense and distant, even as he allows Gilmore to guide him towards the door, and it does little to ease his concern.

_Vax…_

*

   The basin in Vax’s room is filled with reddish water by the time they’re finished, and while Gilmore is reassured to see that the remaining injuries are far from life-threatening, it doesn’t ease the complicated mix of worry and anger at seeing cuts and bruises blossoming on pale skin. His gaze lingering longest on the raw patches of skin that speak of Vax’s contact with the robe and watching carefully for any sign of protest or fear he reached out to lightly trace the worst patch right across Vax’s chest, feeling the half-elf’s breath hitch and catch under his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Why are you apologising?” Vax demanded, and he sounded bewildered. However, Gilmore had learnt to listen for the notes that others wouldn’t here. For the words that Vax couldn’t or wouldn’t let himself say, and he heard it now, the fear…the attempt to put distance between the apology and himself, as though the words might hurt him and Gilmore could feel the answer to the puzzle dancing just out of reach. He wasn’t sure that it was an answer that he wanted to find, but he couldn’t hide from it either, the strange distance between them and Vax’s unspoken fear compelling him, and he lifted his head, waiting until dark eyes darted towards him so that he could capture Vax’s gaze.

“Why don’t you tell me?” It wasn’t a demand, he knew from personal experience that pushing too hard would send the flighty Rogue running off in the opposite direction, but a gentle plea, that he knew would tug at the heart that Vax tried to pretend that he didn’t have. A sharp intake of breath greeted his question, and Vax froze, seemingly unable to look away or find the words to answer and Gilmore waited for a moment, before lightly resting his hand against the raw and reddened skin. “Who gave you that robe?” It had to be someone Vax trusted because otherwise, he would never have donned it…and never been injured, and that list was painfully short, and the evidence in front of him spoke of betrayal, supported by the pained expression that flitted over pale features as Vax looked away, hiding from his searching gaze. “Dearheart…?”

     It took a couple of minutes, but Vax finally murmured something under his breath, the words too soft for Gilmore to catch, although there was no missing the pain in the other’s voice. “I couldn’t hear you,” he chided gently, and Vax seemed to shrink in front of his eyes, hunching in on himself before slowly lifting his head.

“The Rakshasa…the one behind all this … h-he wore your face S-Shaun,” Vax’s voice cracked and broke with that admission, and Gilmore felt a familiar sensation in his chest. _My face…Vax, thought it was me? That I was the one that attacked him? That gave him that robe?_

    It was someone he trusted, and Gilmore took no pleasure in being proven right or the tacit admission that Vax had still held him on that level, despite their last conversation. It made his innocent notion that Vax would look good in that robe a hundred times worse, bile rising as he imagined Vax accepting it, wrapping it around himself with that rare vulnerability on his face that would appear whenever he received a gift. Suddenly, highly aware that his hand was still resting on the evidence of what had transpired he went to move away, struck by a sudden surge of unworthiness, unable to understand how Vax could have let him close with that trick…that betrayal, still so close, and he was startled when trembling fingers wrapped around his wrist, stopping him from going far.

“Don’t…”

“Vax?”

“I thought that it was you,” Vax whispered, holding him tightly but unable to meet his gaze, and the words hurt. Vax sounded so accepting, as though such a betrayal could still be expected and Gilmore had to remind himself that was part of who Vax was, always waiting on a precipice even with those he loved. “When he s-stabbed me and your face melted away. I…” He trailed off, unable to put it into words, but he didn’t need to, the bruising grip on Gilmore’s wrist conveying it more eloquently than words ever could.  “I need to remember it wasn’t you.”

   Gilmore faltered, hearing the desperation and the resolve in those words, touched that after everything Vax would extend him even that much trust. That he wasn’t just going to pull away and hide away in his shell as he would’ve in the past, and it was that realisation that forced him to move, lifting his free hand to cup a pale cheek, tracing the cut that still needed to be fully healed. “It wasn’t.” He put everything he was into those words, promising them both that he would never become that person, and this time his fingers were the ones to tremble as they curled against Vax’s cheek. “I will never hurt you like that.” He knew the danger in those words, and the damage he would cause if he ever broke his word, and he swore there and then, that he would do everything in his power to ensure that never happened.

“I-I know,” Vax murmured, leaning ever so slightly into the touch. “I just might need you to remind me.”

 


End file.
